


Topping for Beginners

by LovelyRita1967



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mixed Martial Arts, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sports, Betaed, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Boys Kissing, Dating, First Kiss, First Time, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Homoerotic Sparring, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Smut, Mixed Martial Arts, Public Display of Affection, Romance, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Sweat, Texting, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, jiu-jitsu, weightlifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28994907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967
Summary: Jaskier joins an MMA gym and finds jiu-jitsu sparring erotic enough just by itself, but then he meets Geralt and things get even more confusing...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 91
Kudos: 258





	Topping for Beginners

**Author's Note:**

> Geralt and Jaskier from this AU met in my Lethskel MMA fic [Yours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714281), and I wanted to know what happened to them, so I wrote this from their perspective to find out! 
> 
> Thank you to my MMA consultant [Marvagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvagon/) who came up with the title and helped with research, and my beta [Blaire_Seton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton/works) who spends so much time on my work I can't even believe it. God, I love you both so much!

### Friday

Geralt climbed into his car - an older but immaculately maintained black and silver Mustang - and tossed his bag onto the seat next to him. He was on his way to work, but wasn’t meeting any clients or wouldn’t be out in the field at all, so he was just dressed in jeans and a grey t-shirt. 

He went to plug in his phone, but then groaned and fired off a text to Eskel instead: _Keep forgetting - my charger is still in your car. Can I come pick it up? Are you at the gym?_ If Eskel wasn’t at work, that’s where he was, particularly since he started fucking Letho, the owner. 

Geralt shook his head at his brother’s life choices. Eskel had left his last MMA gym, Wolf Pack, because of a bad breakup with his trainer, and here he went again. If you asked Geralt, Eskel fell in love entirely too easily. However, the new gym, Viper’s Den, did look impressive. Geralt really disliked running into Eskel’s ex at Wolf Pack so he had stopped by the new place and checked it out a couple times. Eskel had been nagging him to come try a class or two. He was hoping Geralt would switch too. 

In the meantime, Eskel wasn’t replying to his text and Geralt just wanted his charger. He took a slight detour on his way to work to drive past Viper’s Den, and gave a pleased grunt when he saw Eskel’s battered Jeep parked there. He turned his Mustang into the lot and found a spot next to the Jeep. 

He made his way into the gym and nodded at Serrit behind the desk, then saw the back of Eskel’s familiar form leaning against the counter. And finally, he noticed the bright blue eyes of the man Eskel was talking to. 

Those bright blue eyes were wide and staring right back at Geralt, in fact, and the man’s mouth was open. Then he mumbled something that looked like it could have been “Holy fucking shit.”

Geralt shifted uncomfortably. With his size and long, silver hair, people stared at him a lot, but they usually weren’t so obvious about it. 

And then Eskel turned around and the surprise at seeing Geralt registered on his face. “Geralt, hey. What are you doing here?” 

“Not checking your phone? My charger is still in your car and I was driving by, so…” Geralt trailed off. The blue eyes hadn’t left him. “Um…” 

Eskel looked back at the other man who was still staring. Geralt started to wonder if there was something on his face.

“Jaskier, this is my brother, Geralt,” Eskel finally said with a smirk Geralt didn’t like _at all._

“Your brother…” Jaskier repeated dumbly, tongue darting out to moisten his lips. He smoothed his fingers through his soft-looking brown hair and tugged at his t-shirt. 

“Geralt, this is Jaskier.” Eskel continued. “He’s been checking out the gym but was just saying how maybe it’s not for him-”

“Oh, um, no, what I meant was maybe I should give it a few days… or weeks… Do, uh, do you go here, too?” Jaskier asked Geralt, somehow making his eyes even wider. 

Eskel was now full on grinning, that dick. “I’ve been trying to talk Geralt into switching over to this gym, too. I think I might have just finally convinced him, actually.” 

Geralt ignored that comment and tried to glare at Eskel subtly. “Hmm. Can I have your keys?” 

“Oh, sure, just one sec.” Eskel strolled into the office and made a big show of digging around. _Asshole,_ Geralt thought, forcing himself to look at Jaskier. 

“So where do you train?” Jaskier asked, eyes sweeping over Geralt’s broad chest. 

“Wolf Pack,” Geralt mumbled. 

“But you might switch?” 

“Hmm. Eskel seems to love it here… wouldn’t mind a change.” 

“Today’s just been my first visit but I was so impressed. I mean, there was more choking than I was expecting. But Eskel was such a good teacher and everyone seems really nice. Letho is rather large, isn’t he? I can’t imagine what it would be like to wrestle with him...” 

_What the fuck was Eskel doing in there?_ Geralt wondered as Jaskier just kept on talking.

“...Anyway, when the boyfriend chased me out the back of the club I figured it was time to get in better shape,” Jaskier was saying when Geralt started listening again. “I thought I would come back tomorrow afternoon… maybe you’ll be here?” 

“Uh, sure.” Geralt’s mind couldn’t seem to latch onto a reason not to. 

“Great,” Jaskier was beaming at him when Eskel finally ambled back out and tossed his keys at Geralt. 

“Eskel,” Jaskier turned to him, eyes bright. “I really can’t thank you enough. You’ve been so helpful. I will definitely be back tomorrow. Perhaps you can teach me a few moves on the mat.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And Geralt, it was lovely to meet you.” 

Geralt watched him go then looked at Eskel. “What…” 

“Oh, stop, Geralt. He’s cute and he thinks you’re hot. Don’t overthink it. Did he ask for your number?”

“No, but, um.. I might have told him I’d be here tomorrow afternoon.” 

Eskel, to his credit, didn’t laugh, although it looked like he was trying not to. “That’s great. You’ll love it here.” 

Geralt headed out to Eskel’s car in search of his charger, thinking about the blue eyes and soft brown hair and the workout he now had scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. 

### Saturday 

Geralt thought it was very strange that there was a little flutter in his stomach as he changed into his workout gear the next afternoon. He looked at himself in the mirror as he pulled his hair back into a bun and frowned at his clothing choice. He was wearing loose fitting lightweight black sweats and a blue tank top. Did the tank top look like he was trying too hard? Should he have worn a t-shirt? _No, stick with the tank top. It matches his eyes._

 _It_ matches _his_ eyes? _What the_ fuck, _Geralt. Get it together._

He warmed up on the treadmill to start, a quick 5k, then just as he started his first set of bicep curls, Jaskier came in. 

He was wearing black gym shorts and a red dry-fit t-shirt. His blue eyes (they did match his tank top actually) scanned the room and lit up when they met Geralt’s. Geralt continued his set as Jaskier approached, then put his dumbbells back on the rack and turned to greet him. Geralt immediately saw that Jaskier’s arms and shoulders were nicely muscled, something he hadn't noticed yesterday when Jaskier had a hoodie on. 

“Hi,” Jaskier said with a wide smile. 

His teeth were also very white and straight. “Hi,” Geralt replied, suddenly aware of how much he was sweating. 

“How are you today?” Jaskier asked, giving his t-shirt a tug. 

Geralt nodded. “Good. You?” He noticed Eskel watching them with a stupid grin on his face, that prick. 

“I’m good! Ready to give this whole thing a solid try. Thought I would do some cardio for now, then there’s a kettlebell class in a bit I might try out. Really need to ease into the, uh, jiu-jitsu, I believe it was. The one that’s weirdly erotic.” 

Geralt stared at him. _Say something._ “Okay. I’ll just…” he pointed at the dumbbells. 

Jaskier flashed his perfect teeth again. “And that’s where everyone will be!” 

Geralt watched Jaskier turn and make his way to an elliptical, then his eyes flicked up and caught Eskel’s gaze again. Eskel winked at him. The guy was relentless. 

Geralt went into some shoulder presses as Jaskier started on the elliptical, and then some triceps extensions. Once he felt good and warm, he loaded his weights for bench presses and grabbed Serrit to spot him. He was just about to lie back when Jaskier wandered over, wiping his face with a towel. 

“Wow, that’s a lot of weight,” Jaskier mused. “How much is that?”

Geralt shrugged. “One eighty-five.” 

“That’s just a warm-up for Geralt,” Serrit offered. 

Jaskier whistled, impressed. “I daresay you could lift me.”

Geralt’s throat closed up. 

Serrit grinned. “I’m sure he could.” 

“Uh,” Geralt said, then lay back on the bench. He gripped the bar and absolutely did not focus on Jaskier still hovering. 

“Well, my class is starting,” Jaskier pointed his thumb at the mat. “So… keep up the good work.” 

Geralt exhaled, adjusted his grip and nodded, very relieved that Jaskier was not going to stand there watching him. 

After his set at 185, he did 205, then 225. Wiping the sweat off of his brow he grabbed his water bottle and took a few long pulls, casting glances over at the floor. Jaskier was very graceful, in fact, with long, smooth movements. By the end of the class Jaskier’s hair was a little sweaty and sticking to his forehead. His shirt looked a little clingy, too…

And then Geralt blinked, because suddenly Eskel appeared, grabbing Geralt’s arm and hauling him over to where Jaskier was downing his water. “Jaskier, Geralt would like to go out with you sometime. Are you free tonight?” Eskel said, out of absolutely nowhere.

Geralt nearly choked, ready to fucking murder his dickhead brother. Jaskier was just being friendly... there was no way someone that outgoing and bubbly and cute would want to date someone like h-

But then a grin split across Jaskier’s face. “I have a gig late tonight but I am in fact painfully free right now. Well, I should shower, because… phew.” He patted his face with a towel. “Do you like Thai?” he asked Geralt. “I’m obsessed with a place down on Redania that has killer curry. It really puts hair on your chest. That must be why I have so much.” He laughed delightedly. 

Geralt watched him, brow furrowed, unsure which part of that he should respond to.

Eskel cleared his throat. “He’d love to. Why don’t you two go shower and head off then.” He patted Geralt’s arm, then gave him a shove towards the locker room. 

Geralt tried to shoot Eskel a death glare, but Jaskier was smiling at him, so he didn’t quite get around to it. Okay, so a date was happening. Right now, apparently. 

They headed into the locker room together, each grabbing a shower stall. Once Geralt got undressed and was under the hot spray, he was suddenly very aware that Jaskier was naked, soaped up, and rubbing his hands all over his own body only a few feet away. He turned the water temperature down a little and vigorously scrubbed at his face and hair. 

He toweled off and pulled his jeans and t-shirt out of his bag. He sniffed at them. They smelled okay. Maybe not what he would have chosen for a date, but they would do. 

He found a spot at the counter and Jaskier instantly appeared right next to him, pulling all manner of bottles and tubes out of his bag. He was wearing tight, dark denim and a red and blue buffalo plaid shirt. He looked… really good, wet hair and all. 

Geralt looked at his own dripping and scraggly hair in the mirror and realized it exceptionally awkward to be doing his hair next to a man he had just met and was about to go on a first date with. Fortunately, Jaskier seemed to have no such qualms, and he chattered away, barely even pausing to breathe. 

“What do you use in your hair?” Jaskier was asking as he spritzed his head with something that smelled like vanilla and chamomile. 

“Uh, a comb?” Geralt frowned, holding it up.

“What?” Jaskier gasped, hand pressed to his chest. “You don’t put any product in your hair? Those gorgeous silver locks, and nothing? Oh, no, no, Geralt. That simply will not do. Here, try this.” 

Before Geralt could blink, Jaskier was spritzing that shit all over his hair, too. And it smelled really fucking good. 

“There, now comb it out.” 

The comb slid right through his hair. He looked at Jaskier in the mirror. The man looked like he’d just won the Nobel Peace Prize for hair. 

“You’re welcome. We’re going to have to stop at a drug store after we eat. My favourite place is Sal’s, they have the best selection of hair products. We need to deal with this situation.” He waved his hand at Geralt’s hair. 

“Uh…” 

“I’m all ready! Are you? Let’s go!” And he was off. 

Geralt hastily pulled half his hair back in a ponytail and grabbed his bag off the counter. This might have been a mistake. 

* * * * 

Jaskier had explained to Geralt how to get to the restaurant but had quickly lost sight of his car behind him in the traffic. Seated at his regular table in the corner, a small part of him was worried Geralt wasn’t going to show. 

Jaskier was trying his best not to scare Geralt off, but the task was challenging because the man was so fucking hot. It was impossible _not_ to lose it. He felt his heart pounding and his brain racing and he couldn’t seem to stop the words from pouring out of his mouth. He almost wouldn’t blame Geralt if he stood him up. 

And so, he felt an immense flood of relief when he saw Geralt’s silver head come through the door. Jaskier stood and waved and Geralt made his way over, weaving through mostly empty tables. It was a quiet night, although the ding of the bell was fairly constant as people came in and out for delivery and takeout orders. 

They were seated on opposite sides of a rounded booth that was tucked far away in the back. 

“Hi,” Jaskier said, relieved, when Geralt sat. “I was worried you maybe weren’t going to show,” he admitted. 

Geralt quirked an eyebrow at him and picked up his menu. “Get stood up a lot, do you?” 

Jaskier gasped. “I do not get stood up… much!” 

“Hmm.” Geralt’s mouth may have twitched the tiniest bit as he eyed the selection. 

“Have you been here before?” 

Geralt shook his head. 

“They are famous for their panang curry. It’s heaven, you have to try it. The pad thai is, of course, excellent. If you prefer noodles, the drunken chicken is a can’t miss… ooh, then there’s the beef with peanut sauce…” 

Geralt looked at him. 

“Errr… any preferences?” Jaskier asked, painfully aware of how little talking Geralt was doing.

Geralt shook his head again. 

“Shall I just order for the two of us? We can share?” 

Geralt put his menu down and nodded with a “Hmm.” 

When the server came by with water, Jaskier ordered the panang curry and the drunken chicken noodle, since they were his favourites, and they each ordered a beer. 

Once the server left, a silence descended over the table. Jaskier forced himself to count to ten before he continued to fill the air with his babble. He lasted through the longest nine seconds of his life, then Geralt finally spoke. 

“So… where are you playing tonight?” 

Jaskier felt nearly weak with relief. “Have you heard of Silver Towers?” 

Geralt nodded. 

Silver Towers was an old bar on the edge of town, its glory days long passed. “They’ve had me in a few times… interesting mix of clientele, you get the hipster university students when school’s in, but you also get the rednecks from the country, so on a bad night you either get beer thrown at you or you get completely ignored.” 

Jaskier was telling Geralt all about the stuck up bar manager, who most likely despised him, when he realized Geralt was not listening to a word he was saying. Instead he was staring hard towards the front door, and he had gone rigid. 

“Um….” Jaskier trailed off. He turned to see what Geralt was looking at, but he didn’t see anything interesting, just a man at the till paying his bill. “What are you…?” 

“Stay here,” Geralt said sharply. Then he was on his feet, striding ahead very purposefully. Jaskier looked at Geralt’s empty spot at the table, then got up and followed him. 

As he approached the front, Jaskier took another look at the man paying his bill and realized something was wrong. The employee behind the till, her name tag said Sophie, was frozen, face stricken. The man was wearing a black knitted hat pulled low and had the neck of his Nilfgaard Knights hoodie pulled up over his nose. And then Jaskier saw the shape of what looked like the barrel of a gun pressed through the material of his pocket. 

_Fuck._

And Geralt was just marching right towards him. He stopped a few feet short, his hands up in front of him. 

“Hey,” Geralt said calmly, deep voice rumbling. 

The robber looked over his shoulder and his eyes went round at the sight of Geralt. 

Jaskier took a moment to see what the man was seeing. Geralt was only an inch or so taller than Jaskier himself, about 6’1, but was _thick._ Massive shoulders and chest and arms and thighs and probably a… well, everything else. Geralt’s dark jeans and black t-shirt did not leave the extent of his musculature in any doubt. Jaskier shook his head. _Focus._

Geralt’s long white hair was half pulled back, and his eyes, an unusual golden shade, were narrowed intently at the man. Geralt was standing with his legs planted wide, one foot a little in front of the other, knees slightly bent. 

“You don’t wanna do this, man. You should just go,” Geralt said in an even voice. 

The man turned to fully face Geralt, and Sophie took the opportunity to flee through a swinging door into the back. Jaskier could see the owner, Panat, on the phone through the window in the door.

Jaskier felt his mouth dry out. The gun was now pointed at Geralt. 

“What’s it to you, tough g-” 

And before he could finish the question, Geralt was a blur. He lunged forward, closing the gap between them. He gripped the barrel though the man’s hoodie, pushing it to the side, while at the same time, smashing his fist into the man’s chin in a vicious uppercut. The man’s head snapped back, then Geralt grabbed onto his arm and swung him down onto the floor. 

The robber hit the ground with a grunt, and Geralt pulled a piece of PVC piping out of his pocket. 

Jaskier took a breath. _No gun._

Before the man could try to scramble to his feet, Geralt was on him. Jaskier didn’t even have time to blink, and Geralt had the man pinned and immobile, with his arms wrapped around the man’s neck like a pretzel. The handful of other patrons in the place were on their feet, gawping. 

Geralt looked up at Jaskier. “I told you to stay at the table.” 

Jaskier opened and closed his mouth, attempting to find words. He pondered the sheer brute strength it took to toss someone to the floor like it was nothing. The complete lack of fear Geralt had shown, all while his tight black t-shirt was trying and failing to contain his bulging biceps. 

Finally Jaskier went with, “Are you crazy? He could have shot you!” 

“Get off me, asshole” the man grunted. 

Geralt didn’t say anything, but tightened his grip just a hair. 

Jaskier took a deep breath to settle his racing heart. “Are you okay?” he asked Geralt.

“Me?” Geralt looked confused. “I’m fine.” 

Panat crept out of the kitchen, still on the phone. “The police are on their way,” he told Geralt. Then he spoke back into the phone. “The man has him pinned to the ground. Yes. Yes, he looks very strong.” He eyed Geralt. “I’m not worried.” 

Jaskier felt his lips twitching. _Very strong indeed._

“Your dinner is ready, Mr. Jaskier,” Panat whispered to him with one hand covering the microphone. 

“My… dinner?” 

“Yes, your dinner. That you ordered.” Panat looked at him like he was slow. 

“Oh, I… I’ll wait until Geralt is… free.” 

“Go ahead and eat,” Geralt grunted at him. “I don’t know when I’ll be done here.” 

“Er…” Jaskier watched the man under Geralt make another feeble attempt at wiggling free. “Maybe just pack them both up to go, Panat?” 

“Sure thing, Mr. Jaskier.” Panat wandered back into the kitchen. 

Jaskier looked at Geralt again. He thought the small talk had been awkward before. “So…” he scratched the back of his beck. “Is this your first time stopping a robbery?” 

Geralt frowned for a moment. “No, actually.” 

“Oh, cool. Cool. Where was that one?” 

“A bank.”

“You stopped a _bank robbery?”_

“Yeah.” 

Jaskier wasn’t sure which was more annoying, having his date interrupted, or being forced to draw such tantalizing information out of Geralt one painful word at a time. 

Mercifully, it wasn’t too much longer before the sound of sirens filled the air. Finally they saw two police cars pull into the lot, and four officers hurried in the door. They slapped cuffs on the suspect and one of them hauled him out the door as he was being read his rights. The other three began taking statements. 

As Jaskier was describing what had happened to one young, bored looking officer, Sophie snuck over and handed him a takeout bag. “On the house,” she whispered before slinking away. 

He looked over and saw Geralt was talking to a much more enthusiastic looking officer who was scribbling away in a notepad. Geralt had his takeout bag sitting on the counter next to him. 

Jaskier looked at the time. He didn’t have much longer before he had to leave for his gig. When his officer was done with him, he hovered around the periphery of Geralt’s conversation, checking his phone, and wondering if it would be rude to dig into his takeout now. 

Finally the officer shut her notebook and gave Geralt a nod, and Jaskier slid up to him. 

“So…” he said awkwardly. “This is quite the first date...” 

Geralt grimaced. “Sorry.”

“Are you kidding?” Jaskier shook his head and licked his lips ardently. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry! You were… that was… I mean, not only are you gorgeous, you’re lethal. You’re practically a superhero.” 

Jaskier could swear Geralt was blushing a little as he shifted and picked up his takeout. Then Geralt indicated out the window with his thumb. “They want the medic to look at my hand…” 

“Yes, and I’ve got that gig, so…” Jaskier looked at those golden eyes and took a breath. “Can I get your number?” he blurted, before he could lose his nerve. Worst case, if Geralt said no right now, it just meant he couldn’t join that gym. 

But Geralt nodded. “Yeah.” 

Jaskier, trying not to look like he was massively relieved, handed Geralt his phone. He watched him punch his number in, face inscrutable, then he passed the phone back. 

“See you later,” Geralt said, holding Jaskier’s eyes perhaps a second longer than expected. 

“Yeah. Later,” Jaskier nodded and smiled and watched Geralt walk out the door. 

He turned to look at Panat and Sophie who were grinning at him. “We really like that one,” Sophie said meaningfully. 

“Yeah…” Jaskier watched that white hair walking through the parking lot to the waiting ambulance. “I think I really like him, too.” 

* * * * 

_Jaskier:_ When do I text him? 

_Triss:_ Wait until tomorrow at least.

 _Jaskier:_ Really???

Jaskier was backstage at the rundown club, slightly sweaty and downing water, waiting for his next set. He was fiddling with his phone, debating whether it was too early to text Geralt. That is to say, he _definitely_ knew it was too early, but thought he’d let his best friend weigh in on whether he _should_ or not. 

_Triss:_ Lol then why even ask me? 

_Jaskier:_ Fair point. I’m texting him. 

_Triss:_ Course you are babe. 

He thought for a minute and then typed a message to Geralt and hit send. 

_Jaskier:_ Hey, it’s Jaskier. How’s your hand? 

Simple. Considerate. Not desperate. It was just good manners to check on someone’s injury after they foiled a robbery while you were on a date with them. Geralt’s three dots appeared right away, and Jaskier held his breath. _Don’t leave me on read. Do_ not _leave me on read,_ he prayed.

_Geralt:_ Fine. 

Jaskier exhaled in relief, but then stared at the four letter reply. _“Fine”? Really? That’s it?_ But then another message popped up right away. 

_Geralt:_ How was your gig? 

Okay. This was good. He was engaging. But now Jaskier was faced with the task of crafting the perfect reply. Should he go with flirty? Funny? Friendly? 

_Jaskier:_ Not bad… only got one beer thrown at me. Thought about throwing one back but I can barely lift my arms after those workouts.

 _Geralt:_ I can give you some stretches to do.

Jaskier’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t even sure why, something about Geralt and stretching and the words “give you”. But then he wondered… maybe Geralt actually _meant_ for his heart to skip a beat, maybe he was implying-

And then a link to a video came through called “Wolf Pack - Upper Body Stretches for Sore Muscles”. Okay, so actual stretches then. 

_Geralt:_ Try some of those tonight. They’ll loosen you right up. 

_Loosen… me._ Jaskier felt his face warming. And then the manager stuck his pinched, pale face and aggressively blonde head into the dressing room. “Mr. Pankratz. You’re back on in five.” 

“You bet, Fil. And thanks for having me in ag-”

Fil just scowled and disappeared. 

Jaskier took a deep breath. _Gods, he hates me. But it’s a paying gig,_ he reminded himself. _You can do this._

_Jaskier:_ Thanks. I will try those tonight, see if they help. 

_Jaskier:_ Sorry we didn’t get to finish our date. Maybe we can try again soon? Gotta go, I’m back on. 

He put his phone away in his locker, drank some more water, and hit the washroom before he had to head back out. Of course the problem with texting Geralt between sets was he now had to perform for another 45 minutes before finding out what Geralt replied. 

His second set was a blur, the audience seemed to enjoy it, and he didn’t get any beer splashed on him this time. When he was done he flew back into the dressing room and fumbled at the locker until he pulled his phone out. And there was nothing waiting for him. _Nothing? That can’t be right..._

He opened his thread with Geralt and there it was, the last message was his, just sitting there. 

“Well… fuck,” he said out loud. “Fuck!” He immediately screenshotted the conversation and sent it to Triss. 

_Jaskier:_ Trisssssssss omg what happened? Did I mess up? 

_Triss:_ Well, aside from texting him like 5 minutes after you got his number, no. Maybe something came up? 

_Jaskier:_ Fuuuuuck.

 _Triss:_ It’s okay. Give him a bit more time. Be patient! 

Jaskier laughed at his phone. _Patient. Good one, Triss._ He packed his acoustic guitar away carefully, picked up his cheque from a sneering Fil, and slumped at the end of the bar with a cheap beer. He half watched the group that was up next, but mostly drowned his sorrows, lamenting his pathetic patheticness and wishing he hadn’t texted Geralt so fucking soon. 

### Sunday 

The one cheap beer turned into several, and 6:00 a.m. felt _very_ early when his phone buzzed next to his ear. Jaskier cracked an eye open and tried to focus on the bright screen. 

_Geralt:_ Let me know if the stretches help. Are you free Friday? 

Jaskier bolted upright, and then groaned and flopped back down, hand pressed firmly over his eyes. Why, oh why, did he drink so much? Oh yes, because the painfully sexy man ignored him. Except now here he was texting at 6:00 a.m., like it hadn’t taken him _hours_ to reply. 

Many thoughts simultaneously crowded his head. _A date! But not till Friday. Waiting was going to be torture but… a date!_ Then, before he could fall all over himself saying yes to Geralt, he took a breath. _Be cool, Jask._

_Jaskier:_ It’s 6:00 a.m. 

_Geralt:_ Oh, sorry.

 _Jaskier:_ No, it’s okay. Are you normally up this early on a Sunday? 

_Geralt:_ I get up at 5:00 most days

 _Jaskier:_ You do???? 

_Geralt:_ Mostly. I work out then go to work. 

_Jaskier:_ Oh. 

_Geralt:_ When you do you get up? 

_Jaskier:_ Depends how late my gig went, and how much I drank, but… noon?

 _Geralt:_ Oh. 

_Great, way to sound like an alcoholic, Jaskier._

_Jaskier:_ Friday sounds great. I don’t have a gig so I’m yours all night. 

Once he hit “send” he realized what he’d said. “Oh, fuck.” He watched the three dots appear, then disappear, then appear again, anxiously scratching his scalp with his fingernails. 

_Geralt:_ Great. I never got to try the beef with peanut sauce... Same place? 7:00?

 _Jaskier:_ You won’t regret it. 7:00 is great. 

Then he took a breath and thought he might as well. 

_Jaskier:_ Think you’ll be at Viper’s Den at all this week? I was going to try some more classes... 

_Geralt:_ Really busy week for me at work. I’ll probably just work out early at home. Won’t make any classes this week. 

_Jaskier:_ What do you do? 

_Geralt:_ Private security. With Eskel. Our dad’s firm. 

_Jaskier:_ And what or whom are you securing this week? 

_Geralt:_ Can’t tell you. 

_Geralt:_ If I did I’d have to kill you. 

Jaskier smiled. The man was making jokes. 

_Jaskier:_ And I have no doubt you could, with your bare hands. I’ve seen your work. 

Once again, Jaskier saw the three dots appear and reappear a few times until finally a message came through. 

_Geralt:_ Well I don’t want to keep you. You probably want to get back to sleep. 

_Jaskier:_ Yup. Little early for me. 

_Geralt:_ Okay. See you Friday. 

_Jaskier:_ See you then.

Jaskier grinned at his phone, then grimaced at a throb behind his eyes. He wiggled back under the covers, pulled a pillow on top of his head then drifted back to sleep with a smile on his face, and beautiful men with strange gold eyes in his dreams.

### Monday 

Monday morning the soreness in Jaskier’s shoulders had receded from “I can’t move my arms” back down to “Hoo, boy, that was a good workout,” and he felt ready to try those stretches Geralt had sent. He looked back at their texts, perhaps taking a moment to read through them all again, then clicked on the link.

Geralt was on the screen. It was a Wolf Pack video of Geralt doing upper body stretches. 

Jaskier’s jaw hit the floor. Geralt was wearing black compression tights and a black Wolf Pack tank top, and the sight of those ridiculous arms made Jaskier’s mouth actually water. Another man was leading the stretches, but Geralt and a woman were waiting behind him ready to follow along. 

The other man introduced himself as Remus, but then Jaskier didn’t hear a word the man said. He just watched Geralt, stoic in the background, as he began to swing his arms to loosen up his shoulders. 

Then he paused the video and immediately sent the link to Triss. 

_Jaskier:_ STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING. THOSE KIDS CAN TEACH THEMSELVES. WATCH THIS VIDEO. WHITE HAIR. 

_Triss:_ It’s fine, it’s recess. One sec. 

Jaskier hit play on the video again, waiting for Triss’ reaction. They started with some shoulder rolls. Geralt’s pecs strained against the tank top when he pushed his shoulders back. Fuck. 

_Triss:_ 🥵🥵🥵

 _Jaskier:_ I know right?? It hurts 😭 

_Triss:_ Bell just rang. Enjoy your “workout” 😏

Then Jaskier realized Geralt appeared to be in half of the Wolf Pack videos that popped up on their channel. He scrolled through and clicked on a lower body workout. _Oh, sweet Melitele._ More compression tights, now with lunges. And squats. When Remus had Geralt turn sideways to demonstrate proper squat technique, Jaskier retired to his bedroom.

Friday was a long way away. 

### Tuesday

Jaskier pushed open the door to Viper’s Den and his eyes scanned the room quickly, even though he wasn’t expecting to see Geralt. Indeed there was no shock of long white hair to be found, but Jaskier was happy to see Geralt’s equally gorgeous brother. 

Eskel was clad in his usual black tights and nothing else, working up a sweat boxing in the ring with Letho, the human mountain. 

Jaskier stashed his bag and shoes and came over to watch the rest of their sparring. Eskel saw him and gave him a wide grin. He said something to Letho, who looked over, smirking. They tapped gloves then left the ring. 

Letho gave Jaskier a quick hello then wandered off to be excessively large elsewhere, but Eskel leaned against the wall, wiping a towel across his brow. “Jaskier,” he said once he had towelled off most of the sweat. “Good to see you again. How are things?” He was grinning happily and Jaskier was immediately suspicious. 

“Things are good, Eskel, thanks,” Jaskier replied with narrowed eyes. “Why?” 

“How did your date go?” 

Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Geralt didn’t tell you?” 

“Well, I heard the Geralt version, which was about five words long.” 

“What did he say about me?”

Eskel shook his head and laughed. “It’s Geralt. He refused to say a word about you - well, his exact words were ‘mind your own fucking business, Eskel’ - and then he briefly mentioned that he stopped a robbery. Again.” 

“Yeah, it was wild… Is it true he actually stopped a _bank_ robbery once?” 

Eskel blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, he took out two armed guys. Knocked one unconscious, broke the other’s arm.” 

Jaskier made a mental note to ask Eskel when he needed more details about anything. Then a thought occurred to him. “Shouldn’t you be at work with Geralt? He said it was a busy week.” 

“I start a bit later when we have big events like this. He leads the day team, I have the night crew.”

“Where are you working this week?” Jaskier wondered if Eskel would be more forthcoming here, too. 

Eskel smiled. “Nice try.” 

“So he really didn’t say anything?” 

“Sorry, man.” 

“Do you have any advice for me?” 

“You’re seeing him again Friday, right?” 

“Yeah…” 

“So then he liked you. Just be yourself.” 

“What if I wasn’t being myself?” 

Eskel chuckled. “Jaskier, I haven’t known you long, but I have a strong suspicion that you are never anything but yourself. The fact that Geralt has spoken more than two words to you at all is a good sign. Just… breathe. You’ve got this.” He clapped Jaskier on the shoulder. “Ready for some more boxing?” 

### Wednesday

Jaskier’s phone buzzed and a photo from Geralt popped up. The entire picture was drugstore shelving packed with hair products. Jaskier grinned. The photo was quickly followed with one word: “Help” 

_Jaskier:_ Are you at Sal’s??? 

_Geralt:_ Yes. What do I buy? 

_Jaskier:_ I can be there in 5 minutes. Can you wait? 

_Geralt:_ Sure.

Jaskier launched himself off his couch and raced to his bedroom, pulling his shirt off on the way. He tossed the old t-shirt onto the floor and wrenched open his closest door. _Hmm, what’s a little sexy but still says, ‘Yes, I was totally just wearing this around my apartment on a Wednesday afternoon’?_

He rifled through some short-sleeve button downs and went with purple with a subtle grey feather pattern all over, leaving an extra button undone. You know, casual. He swapped his sweats for tightly fitting jeans, then ducked into the bathroom and briefly mussed with his hair. But it was already doing a pretty cute tousselled thing so he left it. 

He grabbed his car keys and was out the door for the short drive. He realized his heart was absolutely fucking racing when he walked into Sal’s. He stopped by a display of silk head scarves and took three deep, calming breaths.

Then he rounded the corner and saw Geralt frowning at a tiny little bottle of hair oil in his hand, and all that air was sucked right out of his lungs. Geralt was wearing a fucking suit. 

_A suit._

A black suit with a white shirt and black tie. Very Her Majesty’s Secret Service. It accentuated Geralt’s wide shoulders and narrow waist, and at this point Jaskier was having trouble remembering his own name. Then Geralt looked up and saw him, and his face softened into an almost smile for a second. 

“Nah, you don’t want that one,” Jaskier forced out through his dry mouth as he approached. “That’s for frizzy hair, and you don’t seem to have that problem.” 

“Oh.” Geralt put it back on the shelf, then scowled at the rows upon rows of brightly coloured bottles. “I had no idea there were so many options.”

“Let’s see, what I think you need…” Jaskier ran a finger along a shelf until he found what he was looking for. “This one!” He handed it over to Geralt, and their fingers brushed together, sending a tingle all the way down to Jaskier’s toes. “This is a leave-in conditioner. Put it on when your hair is still wet.” 

“And then this,” he turned back to the shelf and selected another bottle, “for once it's dry. It’ll give your hair a shine.” 

“A shine?” Geralt looked skeptical. 

“Yes, trust me. You want a shine. And it smells good, too.” Jaskier unconsciously inhaled and Geralt actually smelled pretty good already. Something a little musky and woody. “You’re... uh… really dressed up?” Jaskier said, nodding at the suit. 

“Oh. Yeah. It’s for work. I just took a quick lunch break. I was driving by and I remembered you’d mentioned it…” 

“You look good.” Fuck, and if the suit wasn’t enough, his lips looked _so soft._

“Thanks.” Geralt’s eyes flicked down to Jaskier’s chest hair then back up. “So do you.” 

Jaskier nodded, feeling his cheeks go hot again. “What, this old thing?” he smiled, waving a hand at himself. 

The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched. “Well, I should get back to work.” He took a step towards the till but then stopped. “Uh, thanks. Thanks for coming. That was… thanks.” 

“Oh, yeah, hey, it was no problem. Always nice to feel useful.” 

Geralt nodded. “Okay, well… talk to you later.” He turned to walk to the till and Jaskier did not stare at the material pulling tight on Geralt’s ass as he strode away. 

He shook his head and made his way to the entrance, then looked up at Geralt as he pushed through the door. Geralt was looking back. Jaskier felt his stomach clench. He smiled again, then was out into the fresh air, desperately filling his lungs. 

_How many days till Friday again?_

### Thursday 

_Jaskier:_ I took a jiu-jitsu class today. Everything hurts and I’m dying. 

_Geralt:_ Rough roll? 

Jaskier knew “roll” was a term for jiu-jitsu sparring, but whenever he heard it, he couldn’t help but think of something else...

_Jaskier:_ It’s a little weird trying to wrestle someone else into actual submission. 

_Geralt:_ It just takes practice. You’ll get used to it. And remember that as a beginner, you really want to stay on top as much as possible. 

Jaskier’s heart rate jumped. 

_Jaskier:_ As an expert, do you not… stay on top? 

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he sent that. He felt his face heating up as he held his breath waiting for a response. 

_Geralt:_ I can handle being on the bottom. In fact, I prefer it. 

_Sweet fucking Melitele._ Jaskier felt his dick twitch. He was suddenly very horny but completely unable to tell if Geralt was too, or was literally just talking about jiu-jitsu. 

_Jaskier:_ Why do you like being on the bottom better? 

_Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit._

_Geralt:_ Gives me more options. I feel more in control. 

_Jaskier:_ Interesting... So what other advice do you have for me? 

_Geralt:_ Don’t let your opponent get their arms under yours. Keep your elbows by your side. 

_Oh. So just jiu-jitsu then._

_Geralt:_ If you do end up on the bottom, make sure you wrap your legs around them really tight. 

_WHAT IS HAPPENING??? You know what, fuck it._

_Jaskier:_ And what should I do when I’m on top? 

Jaskier held his breath. Three dots...

_Geralt:_ I’ll show you tomorrow. 

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

### Friday

 _Friday._ He made it. 

Jaskier had played at a coffeehouse last night but it hadn’t gone late and all he drank was a mocha, so he sprang out of bed much earlier than normal. Determined to not stare at the clock all day, he kept busy. He did all his laundry, including his bedding, and gave his entire apartment a good cleaning. He hit the gym for some more boxing with Eskel, and picked up groceries on his way home. And it was only 3:00. He grabbed his phone. 

_Jaskier:_ Is it crazy if I text Geralt and ask if we can meet earlier? 

_Triss:_ I would say ‘yes’ but we all know you’ve already decided you’re going to.

 _Jaskier:_ 😘 

Jaskier took a breath. 

_Jaskier:_ Hey, how do you feel about moving our date up a little? I’m running out of things to clean. 

_Geralt:_ I have a bit more work to do...

 _Geralt:_ But can I pick you up when I’m done? About 5:00? 

_Jaskier:_ I’ll be ready. Are you in a suit again? I don’t want to be underdressed!

 _Geralt:_ Yes… but I’ll take off the tie.

Fuck. Now Jaskier was picturing Geralt slowly loosening his tie, eyes smouldering, lip between his teeth… He almost asked Geralt to leave it on. 

_Jaskier:_ Deal. See you around 5:00.

 _Geralt:_ I’ll text when I’m on my way. 

Jaskier sent his address then tossed his phone onto his bed and looked hard at his closet. _Now the real work begins._

He tried on no fewer than twelve different outfits before finally settling on navy blue slacks and a maroon sweater with a white collar poking out. Brown dress shoes would complete the look. 

However, this time his hair was not cooperating, and he was suddenly starting to feel panicked when Geralt texted that he was on his way. With one last forlorn look in the mirror Jaskier figured that it would have to be good enough. 

When Geralt announced his arrival with another text, Jaskier went out the side door of his building. When he walked around the corner he almost fell over. Geralt was parked at the curb and leaning against his car. His legs were casually crossed and his hands were in his pockets. His hair was pulled back, and he had taken off his jacket and tie. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, exposing sculpted forearms. 

_How is he so effortlessly fucking_ sexy?

Jaskier walked up to Geralt and stopped. He nodded thoughtfully. “This is the only thing you should ever wear.” 

The corner of Geralt’s mouth lifted. “Hi.” His eyes swept over Jaskier appreciatively. 

“Hi.” Jaskier found himself blushing under Geralt’s gaze. 

“You… look nice too.” 

“Thank you,” Jaskier smiled, running and hand through his hair. 

Geralt straightened up, moving awfully close to Jaskier, and he got another whiff of his scent. Those familiar musky, woody notes now had a hint of vanilla on top from the hair oil he had recommended. It was fucking bliss. 

Geralt opened the passenger door. “Shall we?” 

“Thank you, kind sir.” Jaskier briefly gave Geralt’s hand a squeeze where it rested on the doorframe as he got in. He watched Geralt walk around the front of the car and he could swear he saw Geralt flex the hand he had touched. Jaskier flushed. His very own P&P moment.

Jaskier had called ahead and asked Panat if he could reserve the same table for them tonight. Not only did Panat reserve it, he said their dinner was on the house again. Jaskier protested, but Panat was having none of it. “Geralt saved Sophie’s life.” 

“It was a PVC pipe.” 

“He didn’t know that!” 

Finally Jaskier relented, telling himself at least he could leave a big tip. 

Panat himself greeted them at the door and led them straight to their table. Jaskier’s jaw dropped when he saw what Panat had done. There were two white flickering candles and a bouquet of red roses in the centre. The two place settings were side by side in the middle of the rounded booth, instead of being across from each other. A bottle of white wine sat chilling in a bucket. He had even moved a few bamboo plants over to give their table a little privacy

Geralt looked as stunned as Jaskier felt. 

“Panat!” Jaskier started, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you… thank you!” Jaskier threw his arms around the startled man. 

Panat patted his back, looking embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “We wanted to say thank you properly. You two deserve a proper date after what you did for us.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Geralt shook Panat’s hand once Jaskier had untangled himself. 

“It’s my pleasure. And please, call me Panat. Sophie will be over to take your order shortly.” He waved at the table with a flourish. “Enjoy.” 

Panat poured the wine for them as they slid into the booth, and then disappeared quickly into the kitchen. 

Jaskier scooted over to his spot, heart pounding at how close he was to Geralt. Their knees bumped as Geralt settled in. Jaskier could feel the heat building in his face, overwhelmed by Geralt’s scent and thick, solid presence. Geralt was so close he could whisper in his ear. So he did. “This is a little… romantic.” 

Geralt turned to look at him. Fuck, his lips were _right there._

“Yes… it’s... nice.” Geralt was also looking at Jaskier’s lips. But then he cleared his throat and reached for the two wine glasses, passing one to him. “To redoing first dates.” He tapped his glass with Jaskier’s. “Cheers.” 

“Cheers.” Jaskier took a long drink, noticing that Geralt did too. 

Sophie appeared, also looking very pleased with herself. “Good evening, gentlemen. What can I get for you tonight?” 

Jaskier looked at Geralt. “Well… we said the beef with peanut sauce?” 

Geralt nodded. “And more panang curry?” 

Jaskier grinned. “Definitely.” 

“Coming right up! I’ll bring you some spring rolls to start, too.” She collected the menus and scurried off, looking back with a satisfied grin. 

Jaskier, meanwhile, felt like he was going to vibrate right off the seat. He took another gulp of wine. “Do you know Auckes? At the gym? He was teaching my class on Thursday, and I swear he made it extra hard just for me. The warm up alone was killer and I-” 

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s baritone cut through his chatter. His eyes were on Jaskier, intense and molten. 

“Yes?” Jaskier squeaked, his palms sweating. 

Geralt took a deep breath. “It’s not... easy for me to… to put into words… well, anything really. But especially how I’m feeling.” 

Jaskier nodded dumbly, the wine already making him feel a little fuzzy. 

“When Eskel dragged me over to you… I was embarrassed.” 

“Oh, gods, don’t be embarrassed. I was happy he did it.” 

Geralt nodded. “I’m happy he did it too. Because otherwise it could have taken us _years_ to get here, if it were up to me.” He smiled ruefully. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is… I like you.” 

Jaskier’s heart threatened to travel up his throat and burst right out. “I like you too,” he whispered, eyes flicking to Geralt’s mouth again. 

And then Geralt leaned in and gently pressed his lips to Jaskier’s. They were soft… so soft. Jaskier melted into them, and a sigh escaped his lips. 

Geralt pulled away an inch, his eyes still closed. He inhaled deeply, then murmured, “Can I do that again?” 

“Please,” Jaskier breathed. 

Geralt’s lips touched Jaskier’s again, but this time they opened, taking one of Jaskier’s lips between his. 

Jaskier felt Geralt’s hand slide onto his knee and Jaskier put his hand on top of Geralt’s, squeezing gently. 

The kiss went on, their lips soft and tentative as they explored. Jaskier’s other hand went up to gently rest on Geralt’s chest. 

When they broke away, they were both breathing noticeably harder. 

“That was…” Jaskier started, every inch of him tingling, fireworks going off in his head. 

“Really fucking good?” Geralt suggested. His hand was still on Jaskier’s knee. 

“Really, _really_ fucking good,” Jaskier agreed. 

They looked at each other and Geralt’s lips were so pink, and now Jaskier knew exactly how soft they were, he wondered how he was going to spend the rest of his life doing anything but kissing them. 

But then they heard a gentle throat clearing and they looked up to see Sophie holding a huge plate of spring rolls. “Here you go,” she smiled knowingly, placing it before them. “Sorry for interrupting.” 

“She didn’t look that sorry,” Jaskier said wryly once she left. 

“No, she did not,” Geralt agreed, his hand slid a little higher up Jaskier’s leg, then his other hand brushed against Jaskier’s jaw. “Now where were we?” 

They kissed again and this time when Geralt’s mouth opened, his tongue slid out, pushing deeply into Jaskier’s mouth. Jaskier accepted it eagerly, winding his tongue with Geralt’s. Geralt’s hand crept a little higher, and Jaskier realized he was starting to get hard. 

He moaned into Geralt’s mouth and scooted over until their thighs were flush. Geralt rumbled, deep in his chest, and Jaskier could feel the vibration in his. 

This time when they pulled apart they were both nearly panting. 

“Um…” Jaskier said. He took a deep breath and fanned himself. “Do you want some spring rolls?” 

Geralt’s hand slid even higher, his fingers mere inches away from making Jaskier’s head explode. “I just want you.” 

“Fuck,” Jaskier moaned, then they were kissing again. Geralt’s fingertips brushed his hard length through his pants, just ever so slightly, and his other hand wrapped around the back of Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier felt dizzy with lust. 

When they came up for air again Jaskier gave his head a shake, trying to clear the fog. “You are a gooood kisser…. Really, really good, Geralt… and fuck, you’re so hot… but, um, we should… eat.” Because they were still in _public,_ Jaskier reminded himself, very firmly. He wanted to be able to come back here. 

Geralt’s nose brushed Jaskier’s cheek. “You’re right,” he mumbled. “Yes. We should. But once I get you alone…” 

Jaskier swallowed loudly. “Fuck.” 

“Yes.” His eyes bored down into the very depths of Jaskier’s _soul._

Jaskier grabbed his wine and took another swallow, finishing off the glass. “I have a feeling now that all your texts were not just about sparring.” 

Geralt’s face split into a full on smile, the first one Jaskier had seen, and it was breathtaking. He stretched his arm out on the seat behind Jaskier. “Maybe not,” he admitted slyly. 

Jaskier laughed. “Do you even know what that did to me?” He reached for a spring roll and dipped it into the peanut sauce, shaking his head. 

Geralt’s eyes were trained on his mouth as he took a bite. “Hmm… was it the same thing those Wolf Pack videos did to you?” 

Jaskier nearly choked on his food. He chewed quickly, his eyes wide with indignation. “You…” he finally gasped after he swallowed, “…are _trouble.”_

Geralt tipped his head back and laughed. _What a sound._ Then he leaned forward and rumbled into Jaskier’s ear. “You have no idea.” 

Jaskier groaned and shoved the rest of his spring roll into his mouth so he wouldn’t climb onto Geralt’s lap and swallow him whole, right then and there. 

Geralt topped up his wine and poured another glass for Jaskier, then reached for his own roll. He dragged it lazily through the sauce, looking rather smug indeed. 

“So.” Jaskier cleared his throat. “Auckes’ class on Thursday was _brutal…”_ He continued his story from earlier, except this time he was doing it to distract himself, not to fill an awkward silence. 

Geralt smiled and nodded along with his story, adding the occasional “Hmm” or rumbled agreement, until dinner came. Jaskier served them each a heaping portion of the two dishes and watched happily as Geralt took a mouthful of the beef with peanut sauce and closed his eyes in bliss. 

Jaskier got Geralt to talk a little too, peppering him with questions about his job which allowed him to give general answers and not reveal any client names. He didn’t realize until later that their talking ceased to be just a distraction. It was an actual pleasant conversation with a smart, engaging man who made him laugh with his dry humour and well-placed barbs.

Of course, he also enjoyed the heat of Geralt’s thigh pressed against his the entire time. 

When dinner had been cleared and Jaskier had drained most of the wine, Panat stopped by to ask how their meal was. 

“May I offer you two dessert this evening?” he inquired politely.

Geralt and Jaskier shared a look. “I think we’re stuffed from that amazing dinner, Panat,” Jaskier said diplomatically as Geralt’s hand slid back onto his thigh. “Maybe next time?” His voice finished a little higher than normal. 

“Of course,” Panat inclined his head. “As I said, there is, of course, no charge this evening. We look forward to seeing you two again soon.” 

Jaskier left a large tip and climbed out of the booth. They stopped at the washroom on their way out, and as they stepped into the cool night, Jaskier took Geralt’s hand.

They didn’t have far to walk, and when they reached Geralt’s Mustang, Geralt pulled Jaskier up against him and leaned him back against his car. He kissed Jaskier hard, tongue insistent, and Jaskier felt a shiver travel down his spine as Geralt’s tongue lapped into his mouth. 

“Gods,” Jaskier moaned, as Geralt’s mouth traveled down his neck. “Will you please take me home? Like right now?”

He felt Geralt’s grin against his sensitive skin, and the man nipped at his neck with a growl. “If you insist.” 

“I very much do,” Jaskier gasped, feeling Geralt’s hardness pressed against his.

“Hmm.” Geralt kissed him again, then reached behind Jaskier to open the door. 

Jaskier all but fell into the seat, face hot and heart pounding again. Geralt looked a little ruffled himself when he slipped into the driver’s seat. 

Jaskier was sure Geralt was driving quite a bit faster than normal on their way back to his apartment, and they definitely almost ran at least one red light. 

Geralt’s hand slid around Jaskier’s waist as he fumbled with the key to get inside and by the time he got his apartment door open he was quivering with anticipation. He dropped his keys onto the floor on his way in as Geralt pushed his hands under Jaskier’s sweater and yanked it off over his head. He tossed it to the side as Jaskier’s hands went to work on Geralt’s shirt buttons. 

As the door shut, Geralt pressed Jaskier up against it, kissing him fiercely. Jaskier moaned into his mouth as Geralt’s hands slid down his hips and around, cupping his ass. He picked Jaskier up and grinded against him. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier panted as Geralt sucked at his neck again. He managed to yank Geralt’s shirt open and push it back, revealing the hard, sculpted plane of his chest. He ran his fingers through Geralt’s chest hair and searched for his lips again. 

“Where’s your bedroom?” Geralt murmured as he pressed his nose into Jaskier’s neck and inhaled deeply. 

“End of the hall,” Jaskier moaned, pressing his hips into Geralt’s. 

He was not expecting Geralt to carry him down the hall, he was six feet tall for gods’ sake, but he fucking loved it. 

Geralt tossed Jaskier onto his bed, then wrenched his shirt the rest of the way off. He climbed onto the bed, kneeling over Jaskier and reaching down to undo his shirt buttons. Jaskier helped him, then pulled his shirt off. 

Then he slowly reached up and undid Geralt’s pants, as Geralt did the same for him. 

He pushed Geralt’s pants down, his mouth watering at the size of the bulge in Geralt’s boxer briefs. 

Geralt pulled Jaskier’s pants off, then paused, eyes roaming over Jaskier’s body. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispered, then climbed on top of him, lips crushing against Jaskier’s. 

Jaskier kissed him back with a heat he’d never felt before, his hands sliding down and gripping Geralt’s ass. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Geralt murmured, dragging his tongue along Jaskier’s jaw. “Is that okay?” 

“So... you do like being on the bottom,” Jaskier said with a soft laugh. 

Geralt laughed gently and scraped his teeth along Jaskier’s neck. “Mmhmm.” 

“Then yes,” Jaskier breathed. “Please.” 

Their underwear came off, and fingers roamed, touching and teasing, learning the other’s body. They fit together perfectly, firm lines and soft curves, like they had never been apart. 

When Jaskier finally pressed into Geralt, he threw his head back, overwhelmed with the feeling of Geralt’s body gripping at him. When he began to rock into him, Geralt asked for more, and Jaskier gave him everything he had. 

Later, much later, when they were sated and spent and curled together under Jaskier’s comforter, Jaskier kissed him gently. “So… are you going to switch gyms?” he wondered, trailing his fingers through Geralt’s chest hair. 

Geralt laughed softly. “Yeah, if you’ll spar with me.” 

Jaskier smirked. “Isn’t that what we just did?” 

“That’s what I meant.” Geralt kissed Jaskier’s forehead with a smile.

Jaskier laughed into Geralt’s chest. “Good... I need some more lessons about being on top.”

“I don’t think you do.” 

“Well… someone once told me that it takes practice.” Jaskier nuzzled at Geralt’s jaw. 

“True, true.... We should practice some more.” Geralt’s hand traced along Jaskier’s stomach.

“I’m gonna need about... 30 minutes,” Jaskier decided. 

“I’ll give you ten.” Geralt’s hand slid lower. 

“I’m really going to like training with you.” 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to read more from this AU:  
> Part 1 - [Catch My Breath](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27453316) \- Letho and Eskel meet  
> Part 2 - [Yours](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714281) \- Jaskier shows up and Letho is a little jealous...
> 
> You absolutely need to read Blaire's [The Lovelorn Monster](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510629). I know, I know, so many fics, so little time, but frankly you are missing out if you haven't read it. It's one of the very best. 
> 
> [Subscribe to me](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967) if you like, or come say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/LovelyRita1967) (18+) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/lovelyrita1967). I follow back! 
> 
> Kudos are so appreciated, and each and every comment MAKES MY ENTIRE DAY LIKE YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE POWER YOU HAVE. Thank you ♥‿♥


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